Lieumon Week: Enchanted
by spockandawe
Summary: Lieumon Week, Day 4: Enchanted. Amon is much more forward than the Lieutenant would have ever expected, but he still enjoys it.


Lieumon Week, Day 4: Enchanted

* * *

The teasing hand under the desk was only to be expected at this point. As the twin driving forces behind the revolution, we sat side by side behind a heavy oak desk when we met with the other Equalist leaders. Whenever I thought about it, I realized just how little I knew about the man beside me. I had no name, not even a face, just a title and a mask. Even though I knew his scars must be truly horrific if he never exposed his face to us, it was still no wonder that I had been attracted to him. He made the simple act of walking flow like water, and I'd never seen anything as beautiful as when he fought. Rather, what I found surprising was that he was attracted to _me_.

I'd doubted it for weeks. In any other person, I'd have known instantly what the long looks and lingering touches meant. Still, this man had seemed beyond mortal concerns, beyond simple human desires. When he finally pinned me to a wall and moved the mask just enough to kiss me, I melted into his embrace. We had to break apart as footsteps approached, and I stared into those eyes searching for an answer to the question I couldn't ask.

I also hadn't expected him to push the relationship so far. The first night I wandered, almost against my will, to his chambers, I brought a blindfold that I clenched tightly in my hand. I could hear the warm approval in his voice when he saw that, and the rest of that evening was a intoxicating blur of overwhelming pleasure. I had guessed things would continue that way, stolen secret moments that we privately shared. But he delighted in pushing the limits. Did anyone else catch the double meanings when he spoke to me in front of the forces? Was anyone looking to see the half-hidden caresses in the hallways and public rooms? But by far, his favorite game was one he played every time we held those meetings.

The first time he moved his hand to my thigh while we planned with the revolution's leaders, I was so surprised that I almost jumped out of my chair. He calmly asked me if anything was wrong even has his hand stroked me just out of sight. That continued until finally the meeting ended, and I had to make a show of shuffling and rearranging papers as the other men and women gradually trickled out of the room. I glared up at him as soon as we were in private, but his eyes were cool and unreadable.

It didn't end, but he hadn't taken it any further than that. I almost looked forward to it, because it gave us an reason to find an excuse to slip away together afterward. The release was always so intense after I'd been forced to wait and endure for so long. That day though, I could tell that something was different. I couldn't consciously tell what was off, but something about his manner as he settled himself next to me put me on edge.

It took him longer than usual to move his hand to my leg. By the time I felt his first touch, I was already half hard with anticipation. It began with the usual soft, slow caresses, but then he gripped the inside of my thigh, pulling my legs further apart. I had to marvel at how unruffled he looked above the edge of the desk. His upper body and shoulders were almost perfectly still, and of course nobody could see anything of his expression behind the mask. I had nothing to hide behind.

He moved his hand against me, running his fingers down my cock through the fabric of my pants. I had practice by this point at keeping my face calm, but I was nervous. This was different. He pressed the palm of his hand flat against my cock as his fingers moved down to stroke my balls. This was further than he'd taken things outside of private chambers. He had to stop soon. And he did. We stayed that way for some time, with him coaxing me into full arousal through my clothing as the meeting dragged on. I began to relax a little, assuming it was just a small extension of the same old game we'd been playing. I was wrong.

I was just getting impatient for the meeting to end when he made his next move. He was grabbing for my waistband but it was tied too tightly for him to get a hand into there at this angle. Oh. Unless he could untie the knots with only one hand. I looked sharply over at him, but he continued speaking to the assembly in the same level voice as always. As he outlined his plans for dealing with the police force, his hand was teasing me out of my pants, and I felt my breath catch as his fingers touched my bare skin. I was so hard, so much harder than normal. Was it the risk? The eyes just waiting to catch us in the act? Nothing we'd done so far had come close to arousing me so much.

Even as he slowly stroked up and down my length, he turned to me with a question. I was proud of my control as I stayed composed enough to answer properly, but when I looked into his eyes I groaned to myself. He wasn't planning to stop. I hardly knew what passed in the rest of the meeting. He moved faster and faster against me, and the minutes stretched on. I could tell he was dragging the meeting on for longer than it needed to go. He was bringing up new points and arguing the small details, long past when everyone should have left to go back to their business.

I was so, so close. It was all I could do not to thrust forward into his hand, and I only hoped that I could keep my face blank. I was just on the point of orgasm when he turned to me with another question. I could hear the smug satisfaction as he innocently asked me how I would go about neutralizing the council. I prayed that nobody noticed how my voice shook as I searched for the words of a coherent answer. My legs trembled under the desk as I came, and my vision blurred. My hips were pressing up into his hand, his fingers wrapped tightly around me until the last of the aftershocks had finished. He reached over to one of his pockets, and without looking handed me a cloth. That bastard, he'd planned this all along. Finally, _finally_, he was letting the meeting disperse. I surreptitiously cleaned off my pants and rearranged my clothing under the table as everyone left the room.

I turned in my chair to face him, but he was already capturing my hand and pressing it to the bulge between his own legs. I could see the smile in his eyes as he asked me, "Your room or mine?" I didn't even have to think about it. His was closer. Our walk was just short of a run, and we'd barely shut the door behind us before I was fumbling the blindfold over my eyes and he was pressing me down into the bed.


End file.
